


Burn

by 1DE3shipper



Series: 100 Writing Prompts [44]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Cutting, Depression, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Sad, Self-Harm, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1DE3shipper/pseuds/1DE3shipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days I can easily ignore the throb in my head and my chest and my entire being.  Some days I can hop out of bed at the sound of the alarm, go out and talk and laugh and be, live the carefree life I'd like to.  </p><p>Some days I just can't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> so this is really depressing...sorry about that
> 
> also I may sort of continue this...I just feel like it deserves to be at least one or two thousand words based on where its going right now but idk....It still wouldn't be a full-length fic or anything but I think it should be more than a drabble....you guys let me know what you think

Some days hurt more than others. Some days I can easily ignore the throb in my head and my chest and my entire being. Some days I can hop out of bed at the sound of the alarm, go out and talk and laugh and be, live the carefree life I'd like to. 

Some days I just can't.

It's those days that drag by. There seem to be so many more of those days lately and it worries me that they're slowly taking over my entire existence. On the worst ones, I won't leave my bed for the entire day, won't answer my phone, won't eat, won't even sleep. I sometimes just lay there. It doesn't help, but there's nothing else to do.

That was the scariest thought I've ever had, because when there's nothing left, what is there? I don't like to think of myself as empty, but that's how it feels sometimes, like there's nothing keeping me from collapsing in on myself. 

It all happened so quickly. One minute, I could laugh and joke with the rest of them, actually fit in sometimes, but the next I just couldn't find anything left. I know I had them worried, but even knowing that did nothing to change the dull ache inside me that would appear for absolutely no reason at all. I have no clue what happened to me.

Desperation is a terrifying thing. I was so tired of not feeling, of emptiness, that I just needed something, even if that something was pain. It's not like I would be able to make myself feel happiness, anyways. 

I started out simply. Y'know, that stupid middle school trick to stay awake, where you snap a rubber band against your wrist? I thought it was harmless and I guess it was, at first, but it wasn't enough. I tried scratching myself or banging my wrist into things, hoping for a bruise, but even that didn't help for long. 

The others had surely noticed by now, even I had caught them giving me looks of sympathy. They would say something every now and again, just to make sure I'm okay, but they wouldn't push anything. I'm not sure whether or not I want them to.

I withdrew myself from everything. The days where I couldn't get out of bed were becoming all too frequent and I didn't even see the lads often enough for them to worry. That went on for about two weeks. Two weeks where I tried so hard not to break, to just take the numbness. 

I broke.

It happened suddenly. I was staring at the ceiling and decided to go take a piss, even though I hadn't had anything to drink in what felt like days. That's when I saw it. My shaving razor gleaming at me invitingly and then I was gone. It didn't even feel like me when I reached out for it, pressed it against my wrist and slashed it to the side, once, twice, three times before I dropped it in the sink. The throbbing was gone, replaced by the strong burning on my arm. Tears pricked the corner of my eyes at the sudden pain. It didn't fully register what I had done until the blood started to leak over my arm. 

I screamed. I let the tears fall. I dabbed violently at the cuts with a towel (white, I am such an idiot). I sat with my back against the wall and just let myself fall apart. I felt hopeless.

That's when the door to my flat creaked. We all had each other's keys in case of emergencies so it was no surprise that one of the lads would come check on me eventually. I just wish it had been ten minutes prior.

"Zayn?" came the familiar shout from my bedroom. I tried to remain as quiet as possible, hoping that he would just go away. No such luck, because the next shout was closer and he was opening the bathroom door. Liam stopped in his tracks when he saw me, pathetic me, curled in a pile on the floor.

"Zayn," he gasped, grabbing the towel out of my hand and wetting it before dabbing at the cuts on my wrist.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed into Liam's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Z," he ran his fingers over my face, collecting tears wherever they went. "I'm gonna get you fixed, yeah? We're gonna fix you."

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think!


End file.
